


In the Dark

by Diary



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Awkward Conversations, Background Relationships, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Character of Color, Disturbing Themes, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Good Slytherins, Late Night Conversations, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 22:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6258436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repost. A look at different characters and the sides of them few see. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

**Bellatrix Lestrange née Black**

At the party celebrating Narcissa Black signing a betrothal contract to Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix drums her fingers as Lucius drones on.

Finally, he raises his goblet.

Once everyone is getting cake and socialising, Bellatrix slips out of the Slytherin common room.

When she gets to the library, a quiet sniffling sound fills the air. “Ah,” she says. The sniffling ceases. “Someone hasn’t managed to learn the ways of tricking the restricted books, now, have they?”

Walking over, she murmurs the old words she learned during her time as a student.

There’s a clatter as body and books hit the floor.

Withdrawing her crystal ball, she shakes it, and light covers the student. A young boy in a polka dot nightgown looks blearily up at her. His brown eyes are vaguely cross-eyed, and his white-blond hair is somewhat spiky. 

“Madam Lestrange,” he says in a soft, vaguely melodic tone.

“You don’t look to be Slytherin,” she comments. “Mudblood, from the looks of you.”

“You look just like your sister, Head Girl Black.” He gingerly sits up. “She’s very kind to me. My father’s muggle-born, and my mother was a muggle.”

“Worse than a mudblood, then,” she declares. “Meda has straight, blonde hair right now. I think she might have even done a glamour charm on her eyes.”

His tone is unconcerned when he responds, “The face is the same."

“Yes, well, if you want to see her unkind side, just say that to her. What are you doing here, boy?”

“Trying to read, Madam.” He carefully stands up.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix leans down to see the book he was trying to open is one by the illegitimate daughter of Newton Scamander. “Trying to read about imaginary creatures, are you?”

The boy stiffens. Rather than anger, however, resignation crosses his face. “With all due respect, Madam Lestrange, just because the wizarding community refuses to take Madam Newton seriously-”

“She claims a horned creature crumbled a building just by touching it with its horn,” Bellatrix interrupts. “Now, maybe, that would be believable, but all her other claims of what this creature can do aren’t. She’s just a confidence person.”

He looks at her with complete earnestness. “The Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I’ve read all of her works, Madam Lestrange, and she strikes me as very sincere. If only she’d had a camera or a quick-sketch pad when she witnessed it."

“You’re not going to live past Hogwarts,” she declares.

“So I’ve been told."

Pulling out her clock, she makes a decision and picks up the book. “Would you like to learn how to navigate the restricted section?”

He looks at her in cautious awe. “You’d be willing to help me?”

“Yes,” she answers. “But you should know I’m anything but kind. I’d just rather hear about absurd creatures and help make the professors’ lives even more difficult than have to make small talk at Cissy’s party while Meda scowls at us.”

“All the same, thank you,” he replies.

“Do you have your wand?”

He produces it.

“Sit down,” she orders. “Now, the first thing you need to do once you come into here is…”

…

**Marcus Flint**

Waiting in the hallway for Madam Hooch and Professor Snape to get through talking, Marcus scowls.

A squeaky exclamation of forbidden words causes him to jerk his head.

There’s a tiny, blond-haired boy determinedly hopping through the hallway with a fishing line wrapped around his body continually drawing blood.

Getting up, Marcus goes over and steps in front of him. The little boy stops just in time and barely manages to avoid falling over.

“You’re that Gryffindor camera boy, aren’t ya,” Marcus drawls. “The one who follows Potter around like a crup.”

In response, the boy defiantly hurls some more words he’s lucky Professor Snape and Madam Hooch can’t hear through the closed office door. Once Marcus is through laughing, the boy adds, “I’m Colin Creevy. Someday, my photos will be worth more than-” He stumbles and visibly grasps for a suitable way to finish the sentence.

“Right,” Marcus says. He kneels down. “Be still, or this’ll hurt even more.”

Before Colin can protest, Marcus has gotten the fishing line untangled and wrapped up.

“What- Why- How did you do that,” Colin demands. “Um. Thank you?”

“Muggle fishing lines are better than any of the magical ones.” He casts a deactivation spell on the bundle. “No one really knows why. Before the war, my dad used to take me fishing every weekend. He died before I started Hogwarts, but he used to promise, once I did, he’d come here every weekend as long as I stayed out of detention.”

“Oh,” Colin says. “I’m sorry.”

Scoffing, Marcus sets the bundle down and goes back over to the bench.

Colin follows him.

“Best get to the nurse,” he snaps.

“I- It’s just- Everything magical seems better than muggle stuff. My dad’s a milkman, and I’m dead proud of him,” Colin babbles. “And my mum, she’s starting to go back to school. And my little brother, Dennis, we don’t know if he’s like me or not. And they’re the best people I know, but they can’t really help me, right now, yeah? I just want a picture of haddock, and someone gave me this.” He holds up the bundle.

Marcus looks at him for long moment.

Standing up, he says, “Sit down. I’ve got some wound-cleaning potion.”

Colin obeys.

Applying the potion, Marcus says, “Plenty of magical stuff is better, but so is plenty of muggle stuff. When it comes to fishing, the muggle way wins. If you want a haddock- Do you want it alive?”

Colin nods. “I don’t want to hurt it or eat it!”

“If you ate it, you’d be puking up green blood for a month.”

“Oh,” Colin says. He makes a face. “Well, I definitely don’t.”

“If you want one, the best way is to go out at three in the morning on the night of a full moon and throw a line with spicy sausage. It usually takes two or three hours, though, and be sure to put it in algae water as soon as you get it out.”

He finishes cleaning the cuts. “You’re on your own when it comes to getting the blood out of your robes and shoes.

“Thank you,” Colin repeats. Then, he takes a deep breath. “You- you don’t mind that I’m muggle-born?”

“I don’t get involved with all this stuff involving blood,” Marcus answers. “Both my parents are from wizarding families, but I imagine there’s some muggle-borns and maybe even some muggles and squibs mixed in. I know most of them must be half-blood.”

“I really am sorry about your dad,” Colin says. “I know it isn’t the same, but when I lost my grandma- it never stops hurting.”

“He was a good man,” Marcus tells him. “He bought me my first broom when I was seven and always made time to help me practise at night. I wish he’d been around when I became captain.”

Then, he shakes his head. “Go away.” He sits back down.

Before Colin gets up, he reaches over and squeezes Marcus’s arm. “Thanks.”

Just as he disappears around the corner, the door opens.

…

**Pansy Parkinson**

Pansy is collecting pebbles when she sees Marietta Edgecomb sitting alone by the Black Lake.

Walking over, she asks, “Chang’s finally left you to fend for yourself?”

Marietta starts to stand up, but Pansy sits down and tugs her back. “I’ll deny it if you ever say anything, but I think you’re awfully brave.”

Scoffing, Marietta says, “Be original, Parkinson. Let me guess: something along the lines of you’d kill yourself or lock yourself away forever if you were as ugly as I am?”

“No,” Pansy answers. “I’d make everyone else as ugly as me, and then, I wouldn’t be ugly, anymore, would I? Besides, do you think people haven’t made fun of my face, before?”

“It hasn’t stopped you from making fun of others,” Marietta retorts.

Pansy shrugs. “You did it for your mum, didn’t you? She works at the ministry, and you were afraid of what might happen if you didn’t help Umbridge.”

“Yes,” Marietta answers. Reaching down, she slashes water on her face. As the concealer vanishes, she looks down at her reflection. “Terrified.”

“Look,” Pansy says, “I really mean it. Everyone calls the Potters and Longbottoms heroes, but- they’re not. If I had a baby, I’d do anything I had to or give up anyone I had to, to keep them safe with me. Right now, I’d do whatever I had to, to keep my mum and dad safe. If it meant giving up some club, I’d do it in a heartbeat. So, whatever you think of me, I still want you to know that I think you’re brave.”

“Everyone says I should have done things differently,” Marietta says. Tears overspill. “Even Cho.”

“Maybe you should have,” Pansy says. “I don’t know. But you did what you thought was best for your family, and even though Granger hurt you for it, you still came back here.”

“The Potters and Longbottoms are heroes- and I do think there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed,” Marietta says. “But I- it doesn’t matter. Thank you. What you just said means a lot to me. It helps to know that someone besides Cho doesn’t hate me, that someone can see where I was coming from.”

Pansy nods. “Just remember, I’ll deny this conversation ever happening.”

Wiping her tears, Marietta gives a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Seeing Cho Chang exiting the castle, Pansy stands up. “See you around, Edgecomb. Oh, and by the way, when you smile, it makes the pimples harder to notice.”  

She walks away and starts picking up more pebbles.

…

**The Bloody Baron**

The Baron is patrolling the castle when he comes across a brown girl lying on a sleeping bag near the Gryffindor entrance.

He clinks his chains, and she jumps up with her wand drawn. When she sees him, she quickly lowers it. “Oh- I’m sorry, sir.” Sighing, she says, “I guess I’m in trouble.”

He continues to look at her, and she shifts. “My name’s Padma Patil, sir, and I’m a second year Ravenclaw. I know I’m not supposed to be out, but if it means anything, I’d normally never break the rules. You see, um, my sister, Parvati’s a Gryffindor. It’s just, one of our- one of the Ravenclaw prefects was petrified. So was Hermione Granger, one of Parvati’s housemates and one of the smartest second years there is. And Parvati really is brave. I just thought, maybe, if I kept guard, if whatever’s happening- Maybe it’d happen to me instead of her,” she finishes.

He motions for her to follow.

Visibly trying to hold back her tears, she picks up her sleeping bag and follows.

When they get to Ravenclaw tower, she says, “Thank you, sir, for not yelling at me.”

He waits until she answers the eagle knocker’s riddle and goes inside before leaving.

When he gives his report of the castle’s activities to Headmaster Dumbledore, he doesn’t mention her, and every night until the petrification stops and the victims are restored, he stays out of sight when he does his hourly checks on Padma.

…

**Millicent Bulstrode**

Millicent is eating in the kitchens when Seamus Finnigan stumbles in with a black eye and bloody knuckles. He glares at the nervous house-elves until she stands up and walks over. Telling the house-elves what to get, she points her wand at him and orders, “Come sit down.”

“Expelliarmus,” she continues when he starts to draw his own wand. Easily catching and pocketing it, she repeats her order.

As he hurls expletives at her, she sits calmly until the elves tentatively approach with the requested items. “Put the ice on your eye and let me see your knuckles.”

“Don’t tell me you care,” he spits.

“I don’t,” she says. “Or not about you, anyway. The elves let me eat in here as long as I don’t disrupt things. You’re disrupting things, and I don’t want to be kicked out.”

He holds his hand out, and she carefully cleans them and wraps gauze around them.

“You’re good at this.”

She doesn’t respond.

Sighing, he asks, “So, why do you eat in the kitchens?”

“That’s none of your business.”

He waits until she’s finished wrapping his knuckles before trying again. “Do you- do you believe You-Know-Who’s back?”

“I don’t know whether he is or isn’t.”

“I asked what you believed,” he snaps.

“There isn’t enough information for me to believe or disbelieve.”

Making a frustrated sound, he demands, “Well, do you believe Harry or the ministry?”

“Neither,” she answers. “Harry Potter’s a troublemaker, and the ministry’s lied to the public in the past. One of them could be telling the truth, or they could both be wrong. I reserve judgement until more information starts to come out.”

“But you’re one of Umbridge’s lot.”

“I’m part of the Inquisitorial Squad."

“There’s a difference?”

When she doesn’t answer, he leans his head back. “Harry used to be my friend. I- look, I don’t like to think he’d lie, but my mam insists- My dad’s a muggle. My best mate in the whole world is muggle-born, and all of his family is muggle. If You-Know-Who is back, do you know what that means for me and all of them?”

“That you’re all in danger.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But you Slytherins don’t care. I got this,” he gestures to his eye and knuckles, “from one of the boys in your house. I don’t care how many points it costs or what Umbridge does to me; he had no right to say what he did.”

“I just want to finish my dinner,” she says. “I’ll give your wand back on the condition you promise to calmly leave and not come back.”

He looks at her in suspicious surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” he agrees.

She hands the wand back.

After he pockets it, he hesitates for a moment. “What if Harry’s lying?”

“Then, you and your loved ones are significantly safer.”

“But it still means he lied about such a terrible thing.”

“Not necessarily,” she says. At his look, she continues, “Whatever happened last year was obviously very traumatic. If he genuinely believes what he’s saying, then, even if he’s wrong, he’s not lying.”

He considers this. “What about you, Bulstrode? Which do you hope is right?”

“That’s not a safe question to answer at the moment.”

“Right,” he says. “Look, I was out of line towards you. I promise, I’ll leave, but first, I need to apologise to the elves for scaring them. Which one should I talk to?”

She points and tells Seamus the elf’s name.

“Thanks,” he says.

He walks over, talks quietly for a minute, and leaves.

…

**Theodore Nott**

Being careful to stick close to the trees, Theodore walks through the chaos at the World Cup.

Hearing a scream, he peeks around and sees Susan Bones hanging upside down in the air.

He flicks his wand, and the hooded death eater goes flying.

Susan lands on the ground with whimper. “Hello? Is someone there? Please, don’t hurt me. I can’t see. Hello?”

Walking over, he leans down and gently touches her arm. She tenses, but after a moment, she relaxes. “Hello? My name’s Susan Bones.”

He pulls her up and begins leading her by the wrist.

“Where are we going,” she inquires. “Look, please, don’t hurt me. Why can’t I see? Would you please just talk to me? Do you go to Hogwarts? I do. I’m going to be a fourth-year. My house is Hufflepuff.”

Eventually, they come across a group of people, and he recognises Amelia Bones being held in place by the firm grip of an auror. Letting go of Susan’s wrist, he shoots some sparks in the air and quickly hides against a tree.

Stumbling to re-establish contact, Susan loudly begs, “Wait- Where- Please."

Amelia hears her and breaks free. “Susan! Sweetheart, stay still!”

She rushes over and kneels down to look over Susan.

“Auntie, I can’t see! They made me hang upside down, and then, I fell, and someone left me here,” Susan babbles.

“Sh,” Amelia says. She waves her wand at Susan’s eyes and murmurs a spell. “It’s okay, angel. You’re not hurt. There.” Susan blinks and hugs her in relief. “There, it’s okay. Come on, angel, we’re going to go home.”

The two go over to the group, and when Amelia’s through talking, she and Susan disappear in a hazy red mist.

…

**Narcissa Black**

When Narcissa gets to the hospital wing with alchemy notes for Severus Snape, she finds Remus Lupin slumped down next a sleeping Severus’s bed.

“You coming in while he’s sleeping isn’t going to make him heal any faster,” she informs him.

He gives her a wry look. “Hello, Narcissa.”

“Lupin."

“I’m rather surprised that I haven’t seen you at the school’s council’s meetings regarding my attendance.”

Sitting down, she ignores his surprised look and withdraws some chocolate from her purse. Opening it, she breaks it in half, takes a bite of hers, and offers the other to him.

He accepts it. “Thank you.”

“I’m loyal to my house, Lupin,” she declares. “I agree with my boyfriend on many things and try my best to always support him. That doesn’t mean you or anyone else has the right to look to him, my family, or my housemates when it comes to what I think and feel.”

He studies her. “Yes. You’re right, and I apologise.”

Nodding, she starts to get up, but he asks, “Do you mind if I ask how you do feel about my attendance at Hogwarts?”

“If not for your friendship with the likes of James Potter, I wouldn’t mind it.” Adjusting herself more fully in the chair, she continues, “Extreme measures should be taken against werewolves who deliberately infect people. Extreme measures should be taken to ensure werewolves don’t accidentally infect someone. However, I don’t believe denying people like you education and jobs is the way to go about it.”

“But I hurt him,” he says.

She briefly looks at Severus. “You’re a victim, Lupin. My cousin and his friends hurt Severus. If it weren’t for them, he never would have been anywhere near that tree or you.”

“James saved him.”

“Potter saved Sirius,” she retorts. “If Severus had died or been infected, Sirius would have been expelled. There’s a possibility the others would have, too, for keeping the secret in the first place."   

“What makes me different from muggle-borns, Narcissa? You have voiced your opinion on them and what you think their place in wizarding society ought to be on several different occasions.”

Shaking her head, she stands. “Good day, Lupin.” Offering him another piece of chocolate, she adds, “In all sincerity, I hope you aren’t expelled, and I hope you can forgive yourself.”

Taking the chocolate, he says, “Thank you, Narcissa.”

…

**Blaise Zabini**

Blaise is walking to Transfiguration when he comes across a drunken elf. She’s stumbles and loses consciousness, but he manages to catch her before she hits the floor. After gently lowering her down, he looks around and sighs.

He performs a cleaning spell on her dishtowel dress, picks her up, and carries her to his dorm. Once he’s gotten her stomach-down and covered by blankets on his bed, he begins working on a potion to help counteract the effects of the butterbeer.

When he’s done, he takes her to the kitchens.

Most of the elves look on in disgust, but one of them sympathetically exclaims, “Oh, Winky."

“You help me,” Blaise orders the elf. “The rest of you get back to work.”

As they do, Blaise sets Winky on a soft, plush towel the other elf lies out. “Here.” He hands the phial of potion over. “When she wakes up, give her three sips every hour. Don’t let her drink any butterbeer until five hours after the last dosage. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the elf says. “Dobby can do as Sir says. Dobby must thank Sir greatly. Sir is kind.”

Waving the words away, Blaise asks, “Do you have somewhere besides her you can take her?”

“Yes, sir,” Dobby answers with a vigorous nod.

“Do you need help?”

“No, sir,” Dobby answers. “Dobby has gotten good at taking care of Winky. Only, today, Dobby had to work longer than normal in the Gryffindor common room, not that Dobby’s complaining, sir, and he wasn’t back when Winky got through with the laundry. Poor Winky,” he murmurs. “She doesn’t do well with clothes, not when it comes to her feelings, but none of the others want her to help with food.”

“Can’t she help with one of the professors?”

“Most of the professors- they is not impressed with her,” Dobby answers. “Dobby can’t blame them, though, no, he can’t.”

“What about Hagrid? He could definitely use some help in his garden.”

Dobby’s eyes light up. “Sir is smart! Dobby didn’t think of Professor Haggy. He is kind, and his likes- Thank you, sir!”

Winky starts to stir, and Blaise says, “Quickly, get her wherever you need to. And remember: Three drops every hour. No butterbeer until five hours after the last dose.”

He stands up, and Dobby reaches over to tug his robe. “What is Sir’s name, please?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Blaise answers.

He leaves, and when Professor McGonagall confronts him later about skipping class, he offers no explanation and doesn’t protest his detention.

…

**Daphne Greengrass**

Daphne is filing her nails as she watches the corridors from a darkened corner.

She hears the soft humming before she sees Luna Lovegood with a large potted plant come into view. Luna skips towards the Room of Requirement and ends up tripping.

Flinching, Daphne quickly looks around. No one else appears, and she looks bacl at Luna.

Sighing, she braces herself and leaves the corner. “Here.” She kneels down.

Luna looks at her curiously but without real surprise. “I thought it was the nargles I felt watching me. One of the Weasley twins has taken to putting mistletoe in my bags, you know, ever since they read my dad’s article last month.”

She cleans Luna’s skinned knee and repairs her stockings. “Luna, The Quibbler’s banned. You need to remember that when you talk to Slytherins. Or anyone who isn’t in your club, really.”

“But you already know,” Luna points out with a tilt of her head.

“Well, if you and the others ever get caught, I’d rather not have other people know I knew,” Daphne explains. She looks at the broken pot and the plant. “What sort of plant is this?” Before Luna can answer, she quickly says, “Never mind. Just tell me: if I fix the pot and put the plant back, am I going to hurt it, or is it going to hurt me?”

“According to Neville, it’s a harmless, completely non-magical plant,” Luna answers. “Although, personally, I believe all plants have a bit of magic in them. Of course, he gave me a strange look when I said so. I doubt it was due to the-”

“Here,” Daphne interrupts. “Pot and stockings are fixed. Now, just get to wherever you’re going before someone checks in.”

They stand up, and Luna says, “You don’t need to worry. I promise I’ll let you remain in the dark for as long as you want.”

“In the dark?”

Luna nods. “My mum once told me that the reason the public is interested in the private lives of public figures is that people often think it’s the best way to see who they really are. When people think no one knows what they’re doing, they can sometimes do things that would surprise most people. Sometimes, they can even surprise themselves. She advised me to always think harder about the actions I take in unseen than the ones I do when other people are around.”

“Well, that’s- interesting,” Daphne says. “Anyway, go on, Luna.”

“Thank you,” Luna says before skipping off.

…

**Terrence Higgs**

Hoisting his broom up, Terrence is about run through the barrier when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees a young girl dressed in muggle clothing sucking on her finger staring at it.

Walking over, he smiles softly when she tenses. “Hey, sweetheart.” He kneels down. “I’m Terrence Higgs. Don’t take this the wrong way, yeah, but are you a witch?”

She mumbles something through her finger, and he reaches over and gently pulls on her arm.

“I’ll get stuck, I know I will!”

“Do you have anyone here with you?”

“Dada didn’t tell Mum until the letter came,” she tearfully tells him. “My aunt dropped me off.”

He sighs. “Okay. It’s alright, yeah?”

She gives him a sceptical look, and he smiles reassuringly and gets his broom off his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Mandy Brocklehurst,” she answers.

“Well, Miss Mandy, do you want to know a secret?”

She nods.

“It’s better to fly through the barrier, anyway. Do you know anything about Quidditch, love?”

“Game,” she answers. “You chase balls in the air.”

“More-or-less,” he agrees. “Well, not to brag, but I’m the most important player on my team. This broom, it’s never been stuck anywhere. It’s made to get through anything, tight spaces, bad weather, and muggle cars.”

At her look, he says, “I’m not saying anyone should get it through a muggle car- believe me, I’m lucky my sister didn’t kill me for that one, and my cousin is never going to let me hear the end of it, but I am promising you, yes, it can.”

She giggles and moves closer to him.

“So, why don’t you ride through,” he suggests.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“I promise,” he tells her. “This broom is one of the absolute bests, and it likes me. It’ll keep you safe.”

“I’ve never ridden before.”

“That’s okay, darling. I’ll hold onto it, yeah? I’ll walk through, and you’ll ride through.”

“What if I fall off?”

“That’s mostly just something parents tell kids,” he answers. “I’ve fallen off several times, but I was hundreds of feet in the air and going faster than normal people can run. People who go at normal heights and safe speeds only fall off if they lose control of their body or someone actually knocks them off.”

“Really?”

He nods and moves the broom over. Positioning it in the air, he says, “Here, I’ll help you get on.”

Once she’s on, he says, “Now, you’re probably going to feel a lurch in your stomach, but just be still, and you’ll get used to it.”

He taps the broom, and it rises up. When it stops, he asks, “Are you alright?”

She nervously nods.

“Good,” he says. “Now, look at my hand.” He wraps his hand around the front of the broom. “Keep looking at it and concentrate on the feelings.”

As she does, he briskly walks through the barrier.

“There we go.” He smiles at the look of awe in her eyes as she looks around. “Want to ride some more?”

“Yes, please!”

“Alright. I’m going to let go, but I’ll be right beside you.” Before she can respond, he continues, “Tell me about how you found out about being a witch.”

“I always knew I was different,” she says. “When I was two, I…”

When it’s time to board, he finds a group of friendly first years for her to sit with, and she hugs him tightly.

Once he finds a compartment for himself, he writes a letter to the ministry explaining why they’ll probably be muggles claiming to have seen a girl riding a broom, promises to pay any fines they deem necessary, and asks them not to contact Mandy about it.

…

**Unknown Fallen**

During the battle, Dean Thomas is shoved down a flight of stairs. As he falls, the spells, “Immobulus!” and “Avada Kedavra!” ring out.

When he gets back up the stairs, he finds a dead female student lying near the stairs and a frozen death eater standing further away.

Swiping at the tears falling, he concentrates and casts a protective spell over the girl’s body. 

Later, he sighs when he and Seamus find her body.

“It’s okay,” Seamus says. He squeezes Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

Leaning down, he goes through her robes. “Library book,” he murmurs. “One ticket to that new vampire band. Picture of a lizard. Picture of a bat. Picture of the bat and lizard together, be surprised if they lived past this picture. Moon chart. Parchment of passwords; might be Slytherin. Three galleons, one sickle, eight knuts. Notes on astronomy; doesn’t look to be for a class. Blood-flavoured lollipop. Skeletal sweets. Can of ginger beer. Ah, she was Slytherin,” he announces.

Standing up, he shows Dean a picture of her with the Slytherin’s astronomy club. Leaning back down, he gently removes the string of celestial ornaments from her hair. “This is good,” he says. “Bulstrode survived, and she’ll talk to me. We’ll find out who she is and make sure she has a proper funeral.”

Shaking his head, Dean looks between her and the hair ornament. “Did she know me? Know what I am? My house? Would she still-”

“Don’t,” Seamus snaps. “Don’t. Dean- I am sorry she’s dead, mate. I wish she weren’t. But I can’t be sorry she saved you. It doesn’t matter why.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Dean says, “Go and find Bulstrode, Shay. I’m- I’m going to sit with her until- I’m going to sit with her for a while.”

They hug, and Seamus leaves. Dean eases himself onto the floor. “Thank you,” he tells her.

He wraps his hand around hers and looks at the contents Seamus retrieved.

“I’m sorry.”

…

**Draco Malfoy**

Draco finds Ginny Weasley sniffling underneath a staircase.

Sneering, he inquires, “Aw, is the little Weaslette crying because precious Potter won’t even so much as breathe in her direction?”

Making a choking sound, she angrily replies, “Go away, Malfoy! Or I’ll- I’ll- I’ll hex you!”

Rolling his eyes, he sits on one of the lower steps and looks down at her. “You’re just being stupid. A lot of boys don’t think of girls at our age. But you’ll both grow, and then, you’ll have a chance at him looking your way,” he declares with a trace of bitterness. “Your mother’s pretty enough. If she weren’t so tired-looking, she’d still have men besides your father looking at her.”

Glaring up with teary eyes, she says, “Mrs Norris is hurt. Even worse, people are hurt. Sir Nicholas. None of them deserved that, and you think I’m crying over a boy?”

Shrugging, he answers, “Well, whatever it is, I’ve seen enough of you redheaded, freckle-faced menaces to know it’s not just the blocks of stone in the infirmary that’s got you crying. The thing is, Weasley, none of you would feel ashamed of showing such sorrow in front of others. But when it comes to personal problems, heartbreak, and the like, you don’t want even the people closest to know.”

Trembling, she looks at the book lying in front of her.

“I’ve done bad things,” she whispers so softly the words are almost inaudible.

Scoffing, he says, “Right, I’m starting to wonder if your parents just found you on a street somewhere and brought you home. You Weasleys, except for that irritating prefect, all cause mischief.”

“It’s not mischief.” She curls up around herself and stares at the book. “I- What do you care?”

“I’m curious, that’s all,” he answers.

Closing her eyes, she says through the escaping tears, “I made a friend. Only, he’s not a friend. He’s made me do bad things. Horrible things. And I know- Percy always says a person has to take responsibility for their choices, but I didn’t mean- Have you ever done things that- The things I’ve done, Malfoy, aren’t me. I hate myself, and I’d normally never do them. But I did, because I thought he was my friend. Have you ever done something like that?”

“Yeah,” he answers. He looks away when she looks up. “Everyone has crushes on someone they’d rather not, Weasley. I suppose that’s somewhat like having a friend who turns out to not really your friend.”

“What would you do if you had a friend like that?”

Looking back down, he catches her eyes and answers, “I’d chuck them. I wouldn’t say goodbye or give explanations or anything. I’d just decide that they had no right to hurt me and that I wouldn’t let them anymore.”

“What if they knew things that they could hurt you with if you did?”

“I’d go to my parents.”

She makes a sound of disbelief, and he tilts his head. “I’m surprised at you, Weasley. I thought your family was all close-knit. Mine isn’t exactly like that, but I’ve always known that, no matter what I did, what sort of trouble, I could always go to my parents. They might be angry or ashamed, and they might punish me, but none of that lasts forever, and they would do whatever they needed to in order to help me.”

For a long moment only the sound of sniffles fill the air, but then, Ginny takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes, and looks at the book. “Just chuck them away and get on with life?”

“The thought’s scary, but it also makes you feel stronger, doesn’t it?”

Nodding, she snatches the book up and comes out from underneath the stairs. Gripping the book, she asks, “Listen, Malfoy, could we keep this between us?”

Letting out a mocking sound, he stands up and steps down. “Please, Weasley, do you think I want anyone to know I had a frankly bizarre conversation about all this nonsense with a filthy blood traitor like you? This conversation had better remain between us, or I’ll make you pay.”

She gives him an unimpressed look and marches off.


End file.
